


High Expectations

by katieh28



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, Flashbacks, Gen, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 07:22:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7091368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katieh28/pseuds/katieh28
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Walt's first real memory of Jesse was not an exceptional one.<br/>He hadn't stolen anything from the teacher's lounge, he hadn't caught the boy getting high in the school parking lot,<br/>nothing like that.<br/>His first memory, the one still etched in his mind- even 10 years later - was nothing more than a parent-teacher conference.<br/>It was insignificant, so insignificant, and yet it was everything.<br/>After that day, everything made sense.<br/>Jesse made sense.</p>
            </blockquote>





	High Expectations

Walter White had always had a love-hate relationship with these parent-teacher conferences. 

For the students that were doing well, it was great. All sunshine and rainbows for the A+ parents as Walt gushed and ranted and raved about their little genius. Those parents didn't even need to show up, Walt knew, they only really came to hear heaps of praise over how well their son or daughter was doing. They showed up to affirm that they were 'doing something right', not completely fucking up as parents. And Walt would lay it on thick for them, telling them all about how often little Susie raised her hand in class or how well dear Jimmy always did on his lab reports. It was nonsense, but he did it. Somewhere deep down, he still enjoyed seeing the genuine smiles from parents who were finally seeing their kids succeed. He understood that pride, and he had felt that same pride with Junior on several occasions. It was nice. 

For the students that were doing poorly, it was a nightmare. 

A select few parents knew it was their kid's fault when he tried to explain. They apologized, saying they'd push the kid harder, make sure he did his homework, ground him for a while maybe. They sat and hung their head with some kind of shame, and Walt usually felt a twinge of guilt for them. It must be tough, knowing your kid was a little out there. Not the brightest in the bunch. He was lucky that Junior was a good kid. 

The majority of the screw-up's parents, however, stormed in like it was draft day and demanded to know why their teenage Einstein was getting a failing grade. Walt tried to explain it in the kindest, least offensive way possible. When a kid always came to class stoned, he would tell their parents he 'appears to be dealing with some outside distractions' or 'it seems his extracurricular may be getting in the way of his school work'. When a student refused to do his homework, he would tell them that the kid 'doesn't seem to be giving the class his best effort'. But sometimes these kids were just plain dumb. Walt never knew what to say to those parents. 

Walt sighed, looking down at the sign-up schedule for the conferences. First on the list was a...Mrs.Ginny Pinkman. 

 _Ginny_ Pinkman? 

Walt had met Pinkman's mother before, the poor woman, and he was pretty sure her name wasn't Ginny. No, it definitely wasn't Ginny. And usually his father came along, too. This was unusual. 

Whoever she was, no matter what her relation to Jesse, he was sure that she wouldn't be thrilled to hear about his 58 average. 

Walt heard the door open then, and he braced himself for what was to come. 

He quickly put on his biggest fake smile and gestured to the empty seat across from his desk. 

"Ah! Mrs.Pinkman! Please, come take a seat." 

Ginny just smiled slightly, sitting across from Walt. 

Up close, it was even more obvious that this woman wasn't Jesse's mother. The woman looked nothing like her, and she was a good deal older than her as well. Jesse's mother, as he recalled, had the same startlingly blue eyes that Jesse did. This woman, well...her eyes were dark. 

"You must be a relative of Jesse's." 

"Yeah, I'm his aunt," she said. She had the voice of a smoker, rough around the edges. "My brother and his wife couldn't be bothered. I don't blame 'em, to be honest with you." 

The statement struck Walt immediately. There was no warmth in her voice. 

"Oh? Well, I'm sure that you all would still like to hear about how Jesse is doing?" 

Ginny shrugged. "I'm here, ain't I?" 

She smelled like cigarettes. A little bit like booze, too. Mostly cigarettes. 

It was 2:30 in the afternoon. 

Walt just smiled, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. 

"Now, Jesse is doing a lot better than last semester," Walt said, easing into it. "But he still has a lot of progress to be made. I think he could do well if he would only put in a little bit more effort." 

At this, Ginny snorted, laughing a little. 

Walt didn't see what was so funny. 

"...I think he would do a lot better if he would only come to my after school study sessions. I have them twice a week, Tuesdays and Thursdays, I think they would be very beneficial to him. I think Jesse is the type of student that would really benefit from a little one-on-one review time. Just to get him focused." 

Ginny just smirked. It was an evil little smirk, Walt thought. Dark. 

"Jesse? Focused?" she said mockingly. "Yeah, I don't think so." 

"I beg your pardon?" 

"The only thing Jesse's ever focused on is his loser buddies and his little junkie girlfriend." 

"...Well...15 is a difficult age..." Walt said, stumbling over his words. 

"I don't know. When I was 15, I wasn't getting high sitting on my ass all day. Were you?"

"Um, well, no- but-" 

"But what?" 

"Every student is different," Walt said, knowing how stupid he sounded. "Some students just need more, well... _assistance_ than others." 

"Assistance, huh?" Ginny said. "More like a boot in the ass. That's what he needs." 

The woman snorted a laugh again, and Walt couldn't help but stare. The woman was wearing a cardigan, a powder blue cardigan. A pearl necklace around her neck. Her hair was graying at the edges. She looked exactly the same as all of the rest of the parents and family members who barged in here, declaring that their child was brilliant and Walt was just a horrible teacher. 

He usually hated those types of parents, found them irrational and accusatory in their rage. 

Right now, sitting across from Ginny, he would've given anything to be lectured about how great a kid Jesse is. Looking at Ginny's expression, he could tell that it was just not going to happen. 

And that was about the moment when he looked up to see Jesse standing in the doorway, an unreadable expression on his face. He looked ridiculous as always in his over-sized red hoodie as he just stood there, frozen in place. 

"Jesse," Walt said, feeling a sudden rush of something- guilt? sympathy? - wash over him. 

"Hey, Mr.White," he said. His voice was raspy, quiet. None of the usual bite to it. Just soft, and much lower than usual. 

"Why don't you come have a seat?" 

"You sure?" Jesse asked. The question was aimed at Walt, but his eyes were on Ginny. 

"Absolutely," Walt said quickly, getting up and dragging a seat over. "Here, I got you a chair." 

"Uh, yeah. Okay." 

Walt watched as Jesse sank down into his seat. At first he slouched, hunching his shoulders like he always did in Walt's class. It was like the boy didn't know how to sit properly. 

One look at Ginny, and Jesse was sitting straight as an arrow. 

Walt had never seen such fine posture. It was something to be admired. 

"Yeah, so, uh," Jesse said, clearing his throat. "Uh, what were you guys talking about?" 

"Well, we were just discussing-" 

"-We were just discussing how proud we are of you, Jesse. I'm just so proud of you." 

Walt couldn't believe his ears. 

_Wasn't this the same woman who was just trashing her nephew less than a minute ago? And now all of a sudden she was 'proud' of him?_

Walt looked over at Jesse, who's eyes were narrow in the oddest of ways. 

"Really?" 

"Of course," Ginny said. 

"...You're serious?" 

Ginny just smiled and nodded. 

Walt didn't like that smile. 

"Seriously? That's all you talked about? Like, the whole time?" 

"Well, not the whole time," Ginny said. "We talked about you first of course, and how proud we both are. But we did talk about other things." 

"Yeah? Like what?" Jesse's eyes were bright now. Curious. 

"Oh, this and that. You're teacher is a very interesting man," Ginny said. "We did get into a really interesting conversation about college." 

"Yeah?" Jesse said. Walt wasn't used to this look in Jesse's eyes. It was bright, full of hope. Usually in Walt's class, he just looked bored. 

"Yeah. You're teacher here happens to have a pretty interesting opinion on the matter, and I have to say I agree with him," Ginny said. "We were just talking about how in this day and age, having a...let's say... _unintelligent_ kid is a lot more affordable. Right, Walter?" 

"Uh- I- what?" 

"-I mean, if you think about it, taking care of a smart kid is a lot of money. You have to pay for all of those SAT and ACT test, and these private high schools are getting so expensive these days. Then they apply to all these colleges- do you know most colleges charge $50 just to _apply?_ And God help you if your kid does get into one of these schools. Thousands of dollars every year, right down the drain." 

Walt shifted uncomfortably in his seat once again. He shifted his gaze to the wall, to the floor...anywhere but at Ginny. And _God_ , he couldn't even risk looking at Jesse. 

"A dumb kid, though. A real stupid kid. They're the easy ones," she said. Her tone was friendly, relaxed, and Walt was suddenly sick to his stomach. "You don't have to worry about any of that stuff. No private high schools, no college. They probably won't even bother applying, so no need to worry about the application costs. You might have to have a little rainy day fund for bailing them out of jail, but really, all in all it's much, much cheaper. Much more affordable.  _Better."_

Walt is feeling queasier and queasier by the second. His heart is racing when he finally looks up at Jesse, and the boy's expression is enough to break Walt's heart. 

There's no anger. There's no hatred. Nothing. His large blue eyes were now disconcertingly vacant. The light that was there before...gone. 

"But mostly, Jesse," Ginny said, her voice now sickeningly sweet. "We were talking about how proud I am of you. You know how proud I am, don't you?" 

Jesse just nodded, his eyes glued to the floor. 

"Well, it was nice meeting you, Walter. I hope you have a nice rest of your day." 

"...Thank you," Walter said. He was honestly surprised he still had the ability to shake the woman's hand. 

"Come on, Jesse," Ginny said. Ginny got up out of her chair and Jesse was right behind her, staring dejectedly at the ground like some kind of sad puppy dog. Staring at the ground, eyes swimming with tears, right on her heels. 

Something came over Walt then as he ran over to his desk, looking through his folder on the chapter 3 quizzes. 

Jesse's was at the bottom of the pile. In Walt's own handwriting, written in red ink, was a circled grade of 40/100, and a note to the side that read ' _You can do better_ '. 

Walt didn't know what possessed him to cross out the note, scribbling over it in red pen until the original message was completely unreadable. 

He sat at his desk for a while, biting his pen cap, trying to think of something better to say. Anything better to say. 

In the end, Walt decided to leave it blank. 

Some things were better left that way. 

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

It was the following semester that Walt learned about Ginny's passing. 

Walt read the obituaries pretty religiously, and one day right after Christmas break he found Ginny Pinkman in the list of names. 

It was a strange ritual, Walt recognized. Reading a list of dead people, people who were gone and never coming back. 

 _Loving wife, sister, and teacher,_ it said. 

_Teacher?_

Walt cleaned his glasses off to make sure he wasn't reading it wrong. 

 _Loving aunt._  

Walt nearly ripped the newspaper in half at that line. 

For some reason, he read on. 

 _Passed away last night after a long battle with cancer_  

Cancer. 

It was a fitting end, Walt decided. 

For some reason, it just made sense. 

 

Pinkman was out of school for a week after that. 

A whole 5 days without once seeing Pinkman in the halls, in his classroom, smoking in the parking lot. Nothing. 

And then on Monday he was back in class, his eyes watery and red-rimmed. 

Every day he came into class with red eyes and tear stained cheeks. Every day he had to excuse himself and 'take a piss, yo'. Every day he came back from the bathroom sniffling, wiping at his eyes with his sleeves. 

Walt had never felt so utterly sorry for a person in his life. 

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

After about a week, Jesse started acting like his old self again. Started making rude remarks to Walt, goofing off, flirting in his class. It was almost a relief. 

The days he came in looking like death were becoming less and less. His eyes were rarely red and watery. On occasion, he smiled. 

There were still signs. 

On more than one occasion he took a day off from school to run in one of those "Cancer walks" that Walt always talked Skyler out of going to,out of fear he'd be dragged along.

On more than one occasion he took a 'mental health day', as he liked to call it, claiming he was 'just really tired and shit'. 

On more than one occasion he was forced to take note of Jesse's too-pale complexion, the circles under his eyes, the rapid loss of weight. 

On one occasion that he was forced to confiscate the boy's phone, it started ringing in class. Walt was forced to shut the ringer off, but not before seeing a photo of Jesse with his arms around Ginny as the cover photo on his screen. Jesse was smiling, really smiling, his eyes overwhelmingly bright and clear. Ginny...she seemed to be smiling. 

 

Like he said. So terribly, horribly, utterly sorry. 

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

"You junkie imbecile!" Walt screamed, squeezing Jesse's bony shoulders until he cried out in pain. 

"Yo, do you have to be so loud?" Jesse said, still groggy, coming down from his high. 

"Apparently I do, Jesse, because  _apparently_ if I don't scream at you like you're some insolent child,  _you don't listen!"_

"Hey, get off my back man," Jesse said, pushing Walt away. "It's not like I'm your student anymore. You don't have to act so goddamn concerned." 

"No, now it's much worse because I'm actually in business with you!" Walt said. "Believe me, I don't care how stupid and irresponsible you are when you're on your own time. When this is all over you can shoot five tons of rat poison up your veins for all I care. But right now, when you are doing business with me, you will not go around getting high all day like some pathetic druggie!" 

"Well maybe that's all I am, huh, Mr.White," Jesse asked, his voice oddly calm. "Maybe I am just a 'pathetic junkie' or whatever." 

Walt froze, his eyes suddenly flooding with concern. "What?" 

"You said it yourself," Jesse shrugged. "Maybe you were right. Maybe you should just stop being so angry and just accept it, you know? You and your fucking high expectations." 

Walt loosened his grip on Jesse's shoulders now. "Jesse, you're not- look. I said what I said in the heat of the moment. I was angry, and I blew up at you and I'm sorry for that." 

"Whatever." 

"You have to understand...I only tell you these things because I don't want to see anything bad happen to you. I care about you, Jesse." 

For the first time during their conversation Jesse got angry, shoving Walt backwards into the wall. There was a fire in his eyes now, a burning hatred. 

"Oh, so I'm supposed to believe that? I'm supposed to believe that you call me a junkie and an imbecile and a moron because you care about me?" 

Walt was stunned. He hadn't seen this much emotion from Jesse in a long time. 

"You know I care about you Jesse," Walt said softly, gently. It was all he could say. So he said it. "You know I do." 

"You don't give a fuck about me." 

"And you care about me too." 

Jesse gave him the dirtiest, most horribly scathing look Walt had ever seen in his life. 

He didn't say no. He didn't deny it. 

Jesse couldn't even look in Walt's eyes. He couldn't deny it. 

"I'm outta here," Jesse said finally. "Have a nice fucking life, Mr.White." 

"Jesse!" Walt shouted, but it was too late. Jesse had slammed the door and Walt could already hear his car engine roaring in the background. 

Walt sighed, running his hand over his chin, and wandered over into the next room. 

He found the vials easily enough, the needles and the tourniquet even easier. He could've left them there. He could've left that stupid junkie and all his needles and let him poison himself to death. 

Walt threw the vials and the needle on the ground and crushed them beneath his feet into the finest powder. 

In less than a minute, they were crushed at the bottom of a toilet. 

Walt flushed and returned to sit on the couch with all of his worries and concerns over Jesse. 

Of all of his worries, of all of the things that could happen with Jesse, there was only one thing he never worried about. 

Walt worried about Jesse overdosing. Walt worried about Jesse having an emotional breakdown. Walt worried about Jesse killing himself.

Walter White never worried about Jesse leaving him. Never. 

Even now, after everything that had gone down, he knew Jesse would be back. 

Some things just made sense like that. Some things just came easily to him. 

Some things, like cooking crystal and chemistry and Jesse. 

Some things he just understood. 

 

 

 

 


End file.
